Hi all! So this is your Happy New Year! update, and such. Now this was pointed out to me by my beta, Bosslady River, that the reference to Hanami later on is rather obsucre. Yes, it is. Hanami is the spring cherry blossom viewing festival in Japan. The cherry blossoms look pinkish from a distance, but whiter up close. So yeah. And...we get to see a bit of Inner Tenzou/Yamato here, the one that was so thoroughly traumatized by Kakashi in the anime. This is just my interpretation of him, and I think he's adorkable.

Just in case this comes up: I changed Uchiha to Uchiwa on purpose. And Haru no Sakura is my (poor) transliteration of Sakura of the Spring, because she doesn't have a last name. Last names are for Samurai. Yes.

The next update should be in a few weeks, or a bit more than a month from now. School and all, sorries ^^;

Enjoy!

A high wooden fence divided the garden from the fields, latticework at the top to let a little light in at head-level, and as the two of them walked Sakura admired how the garden was calming and decorative around the periphery but the center was outlined in careful plots for a few vegetables and herbs. It was a useful space as well as a relaxing space. Kakashi indicated that they should sit in the shade of the fence on some grass sheltered from the sun, and they sat in silence for a few peaceful minutes. They were far enough from the main house that the sounds of her family and of Kakashi's guests were muted, and they were close enough to the fields to barely hear the songs of Kakashi's servant as he tilled the earth.

Sakura didn't know where to begin, and her companion seemed content to sit in stillness. She had never been around samurai, the only one she really knew before today was Asuma and he was even a wayward one in his youth. From what Asuma had told her and what the innkeeper had gossiped, Kakashi lived as simply as he could because that was what was encouraged by the daimyo and the shogun. He was not overly attached to worldly things, so for him to have lost so much to search after a woman like herself was saddening. As the silence stretched, Sakura mustered the courage to ask him.

"Hatake-san, when did you know?" When had he known he was facing the loss of his father's land? When had he known he was inches from becoming a debtor? When had he decided to bare his shame before his greatest living friend? Sakura emboldened herself further and subtly turned her head towards him to see his reaction, to see his face. He was so impassive, however, that he might as well have been wearing a mask.

"When my father was still alive, barely. It was a week before his death, I think. Someone in this town no doubt—no doubt—informed you of his last days. He was a war hero, he had saved many lives at what proved to be the sacrifice of his own. I knew that I had to give him the funeral befitting his honor in life, and it was halfway through planning that I realized that if I gave him what I thought was enough I would stand to lose everything. I only had one chance to do right by him." The seriousness of his words was fizzled as he flashed a boyish smile at her, all the more ridiculous for the lines just beginning to form at the corners of his eyes.

"But I brought you out here to discuss putting a momiji back here, not dreary things like the death of my father." He began to stand and Sakura was about to follow suit when he shushed the movement, leaving her sitting in the shade as he walked around the garden pointing out places he had considered putting it. At every turn he asked her opinion in a startlingly direct manner, his eye focused steadily towards her. Sakura initially tried to deflect, to just agree with his suggestions. She may have been educated at the behest of her father, but he never asked for her genuine opinion. It was disconcerting when this man looked at her and asked her, with all expectation of honesty, if he should plant a tree in the north side of the garden or the south side of it. He seemed to grow more cheerful as her voice grew stronger, from a weak "perhaps," to a strong, "must." And he was growing more cheerful.

Kakashi had heard in passing from Asuma about the daughter of the Springtime Merchant in the next village over, as well as from a few others he knew in that town. Asuma was the only one to have called her Sakura rather than the Oni onna—demon girl—and that distinction had intrigued Kakashi. She had been termed alternately as lively or unruly, depending on if he was talking to Asuma or to someone else, and her descriptions had varied between unique, with a wide and expressive face with eyes the color of gems, and disturbing, with her apparently pink hair and her aggressive features. Such a woman could be in no place but a hard one—the daughter of a rich merchant, but so strange in appearance that no man wanted her. Kakashi had asked after her first when Asuma had approached him with the intent to find him a wife of suitable fortune that he might have another year or so to get back on his feet. He himself was in as hard a place as she—a member of the elite, a samurai, but ten years older than many of his class were when they sought a wife . He was nearly a pauper, with himself and his one servant doing much of the work on his land, and no father wanted to unite his daughter with a man who would have her labor at equal hours with him or take in work.

Kakashi was in need of a woman who was desperate enough to take him. But he fiercely believed that he would only marry a woman who wanted him, which is why he had insisted on meeting and getting to know this girl first—yes, Sakura needed a man who would take her, and yes her family wanted the prestige (and almost accomplishment) of marrying their daughter to a samurai, but he was reluctant to marry a woman solely for financial gain, or for a woman to marry him solely to secure a place in life and honor for her family. He wanted his wife to be his lover, to be more than his companion and the mother of his children. He wanted the deep connection his father had had with his mother, and even if it pained him to speak of this plainly, he would do it. Otherwise he and Sakura would be returning to their every-day lives single rather than betrothed. Looking over at the now bubbly young woman seated pleasantly next to his fence, Kakashi hoped that wouldn't be the case. Her laughter was different, less reserved than he had ever heard a woman laugh, and she often forgot to bring her hand to her mouth to cover her words. He enjoyed it, and took a moment to just admire her and her certainly unique looks.

In the shade her hair took on a reddish hue, rather than the fierce pink it had displayed as the sun beat down upon it. In the bright light of midday, in the middle of his garden—planted by his mother and maintained by his father after her death and by himself after Sakumo's death—with the green surrounding her, she looked like a spirit. She looked like a nature spirit certainly, but no demon. It was this feeling of rightness at that moment that prompted him to speak, because she looked like she belonged there, sitting in his mother's garden. If she belonged in the garden, she definitely belonged in his house. His hand fell away from whatever gesture he'd been halfway through, swinging to rest at his side. Kakashi dipped his head a little, a self-conscious smile tracing his lips, and he crossed the distance between them and knelt directly in front of Sakura. A similar smile touched her face, although her eyebrows pinched together slightly.

"We should plant it in the fall, together," her grass colored eyes flickered over his face for a moment, in the space between breaths, "if you'll have me. If you want me," Kakashi leaned forward a little, trying to make his point without being too forward, "if you, Sakura, want to spend your life with me, then we should plant a maple out here the fall after we're married. Will you?" her eyes slipped away from his, looking towards the spot both of them had favored for putting a tree which would hopefully provide thick shade as it grew taller. Kakashi waited, giving her a few heartbeats to think, willing her to think of herself rather than any duties she felt she owed to anyone. He tried not to stare her down as she avoided his eyes. This could have been a meeting of formality, but he had refused to allow anyone to agree to anything until he had met Sakura, until he witnessed on his own her smile and heard her laugh with his own ears. Now that he'd done these things, he found her beautiful, he found her to be witty, and he suspected a fierce and angry woman lurked inside of her, and he wanted to watch it all unfold. She was wholly unlike any daughter of a samurai he had ever met.

"So we would marry in the spring? Close to hanami?" a crazed twinkle sparked her eyes, "Are you making fun of my hair?" there she was, the woman Asuma had spoken so highly of to him. Kakashi couldn't keep the grin from his face as he reached between them and took her hands. There would be a lifetime of fun between them.

"No, I'm complimenting it, it's quite different. Complimenting. And so we match, with our strange hair—you and me."

Tenzou had decided to stay away from the house that day, away from Kakashi's guests. Away from the woman Kakashi was considering marrying. Whatever ideals he kept on about, it was about money. This girl from a village a day away by walking was only being matched because she had money, and Kakashi did not. Tenzou hadn't wanted to be around such dealings, and had decided to weed the fields. Again. He only returned to the main house when he saw the family pass by on the road back towards the village proper. In the fire of the setting sun, his master's intended looked like a witch, or a demon.

Inside the house, Kakashi was immersed in reading, sitting next to a tea bowl which had gone cold. Their dinner was nowhere in sight, which meant that their true roles of master and servant were being reasserted—silently and expectantly—by Kakashi. Tenzou sighed and went to the kitchen to boil some dried fish and rice, wishing dearly for something like a mushroom or an onion to add to the dish. Miso and rice again. He tried to restrain his feelings and be grateful that he had been kept through the difficulties of the last year. The Uchiwa family, a much bigger family with many lineages in nearby townships, had let go nearly half of their retainers. They had lost nine good men of the clan, Kakashi's best friend included, quelling the rebellion. While they were wealthier than the Hatake, the family had been financially devastated for the most part.

It seemed that Kakashi was the only one recently with a good head on his shoulders—realizing his difficulties and solving them. At least in the near future. Tenzou worried more about how much this Haru no Sakura would be able to work—she was a merchant's daughter, and had likely never set hand to plow in her life. Sakumo's garden would wither, and the three of them would starve once the influx of money ran out. Sure there was the dowry money, and the money gifts the couple would get at their wedding—if they married—but that would only go so far. They had just a bit more than broke even when Sakumo had been alive, the household earning the income of two samurai rather than one. Tenzou couldn't imagine three people, and perhaps children, living on the land-stipend which his master received.

He refused the option of trying to beg favor from his father. His father had refused for twenty years to acknowledge him, and Tenzou would never give the man the satisfaction of knowing that his unacknowledged son was still beholden to him. If Orochimaru had ever acknowledged Tenzou as his son, he would have grown up as a samurai rather than a servant. Or if his mother had lived. It had been Sakumo who told him of his mother's lineage—claiming descent from the first shogun on one side and from the imperial family on the other. If his mother had lived, he might at least not be a servant. A bastard child of a high-born lady was better than living unwanted as he had for so long.

And now he was going to starve to death, sooner or later, because Kakashi was the only man he had ever been able to tolerate as a 'master.' He couldn't, and wouldn't, abandon the only man who looked at him as he should be looked at rather than where his circumstances had landed him. That's how he knew he was going to starve to death, because of his stupid pride.

"Tenzou, where did you hide all day?" he glared at Kakashi over the steaming pots on the fire as the silver haired man knelt across from him. As if he didn't know. Just because marrying the girl would perhaps—if they were as frugal as they lived now—save them from the tax collector and give them a year to balance debts, didn't mean that the fields could be ignored or that water didn't have to be brought in or any number of women's chores which Tenzou was forced to do could be left unattended. Even one man taking care of a few things was better than no man at all.

"I was weeding the south field, then I straightened the fence, then I sharpened the tools, then I brought water to the back of the house so that we would have wash water, and then—"

"Alright, alright, I know. You don't like her because you don't know her. And you worry that she will be more of a burden then a help once she's here. All that means is that you and I need to teach her how to help us. This means not leaving her behind when you go to work the fields, and not abandoning her to the garden without any idea of what to do or where to start. I wish you had gotten to meet her today," Kakashi looked wistful at the thought. Kakawhis was an idealist to the core, and Tenzou considered himself lucky that that idealism was only brought out when it was mildly palatable. The rest of the time, Kakashi was nearly as practical as himself. Kind of. The man was prone to daydreams, which although common didn't typically interfere with his work. Tenzou missed the slight grin which showed briefly in the crows feet at the corners of Kakashi's eyes.

"That is why I insisted that they stay one more day, so that they could meet you. Sakura does deserve to know about as much of my life as possible before we get married." —so it was already agreed upon— "And of course tomorrow Asuma, her father, and myself must draw up the terms which we went over today. It would have been easier had you been here, Tenzou." The brown haired man scowled deeply, and his reply was terse.

"Fields. Weeds. Guests. Upstart demon gir—!" the back of Kakashi's hand met the side of his head faster than he could speak or even think. It was amazing that his sleeve hadn't caught fire or knocked anything over, but as soon as Tenzou felt he could see properly again his companion was quietly settled back down across the flames. The lone black eye which Kakashi fixed on him was unreadable, as well as his face. It was as though he was wearing a mask, even as he began to speak.

"You will never refer to Sakura that way, or in any other poorly thought out manner. I treat you like an equal because I believe you are a good man whose situation is the fault of your betters and not your own folly. However that bond of equality ends when and where Sakura comes into the question, unless you choose to treat her with the same level of respect and dignity which I will afford her. If you cannot, we will be at an impasse, and your future becomes rather hazy from my point of view. Do we understand one another?" Tenzou's ear stung, but he nodded. Now was not the time to bring up the fact that he thought the girl would not help, that he thought her to be too far removed from work to ever be useful around the Hatake farmlands.

But on the other hand, if Kakashi had faith in her then it just might be warranted faith. Kakashi was careful in the people he trusted, and if he was putting trust in Haru no Sakura then perhaps this might turn out alright. Tenzou doubted it though.

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